


Collateral Damage

by sylveondreams



Category: jacksepticeye - Fandom
Genre: Copious Amounts Of Swearing, Corrupted Jackie, Crime, Gen, Panic Attack, Revenge, lying, no knowledge of canon needed, past psychological torture, past relationship, rated mature for violence, superhero au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2019-09-24 07:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17096276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylveondreams/pseuds/sylveondreams
Summary: Jackie was once a hero. Something happened - he doesn't quite remember what - and now he wears his mask for the other side. He hasn't spoken to his former teammates in a long time, but when a new masked hero appears on the scene and Marvin tries to reconnect with Jackie, the balance of Jackie's life falls into flux.





	1. In Which We Meet Our Hero

The radio crackled. "...stop the rise of masked villains. Are vigilantes truly the solution to this problem? Or are they part of the problem? We have Mayor Hunter on City Perspectives, this evening at-"

Jackie slammed his hand into the radio, and it lost connection again. He didn't want to hear about the fucking vigilantes this evening at whatever time. He hunched a little bit further into his hoodie, staring intently at nothing much out of the front window of his van.

It wasn't nothing much, actually. But nothing much was happening. The bank was quiet at two on a Tuesday.

The radio crackled again. "...but police are still investigating. Here's the president of the museum, Paul Rosa, with a message."

"I'd just like to ask whoever took the painting to return it whole and safe. It's a very special specimen, and I promise that if you return it promptly, the museum won't press charges."

Jackie chuckled darkly and turned the volume on the radio all the way down. "The fucking museum won't press charges either way. It's not like they have a ton of money." He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. Lower: "Plus, no one's returning the damn thing. Asking for mercy is a useless exercise." He was sick of the constant crime news jabber on the radio, but the thing was broken again. Wouldn't turn to another station.

There was a movement inside the bank as someone walked towards the door. Jackie pressed his mask over his eyes, and it formed to his face. He opened the car door, pulled his hood over his head, and trotted towards the bank's parking lot. The person who'd just come out wasn't paying attention behind them as they fumbled with their car keys. Perfect.

Jackie put an arm around their throat and his other palm to the side of their head. "Put your hands up."

The bank patron froze, their body going stiff under his arm. Slowly, they raised their hands.

"Good. We're going inside." Jackie moved his arm down slightly so that he could pick them up by pinning their shoulders to him. They kicked. Hopeless fool. A normal human couldn't do a damn thing against super strength.

Jackie carried them effortlessly into the bank, only tripping over their flailing feet once and growling into their ear until they stopped fucking _kicking_.

When he ripped the door off its hinges, the bank employees behind the glass looked up, startled.

"If you call the police, I'll hear you!" Jackie pressed his palm to the side of his captive's head. "I can cause a psychic explosion by killing this man!" He couldn't do such a thing, but he'd heard of someone in Spain who could.

The employees looked nervous. The poor things didn't expect to be robbed today.

"Give me your safe-deposit key."

The younger one stuttered out, "If you- If you want to get into your safe-deposit box, sir, I can help you with that without a hostage in the situation."

Jackie laughed harshly. "You've got some fucking nerve. Just give me the key. I don't want to break the box too badly."

There was the click of a panic button behind the glass, almost inaudible even with enhanced hearing.

"Great. So that's how it's going to be." Jackie dragged the hostage off to the safe-deposit room open in the back, taking less care now to not choke them. What luck! The safe the box was in was open. Taking his palm off of the side of the person's head for a moment, he rummaged in his hoodie pocket for a skeleton key. It wasn't elegant - opening something with a key that didn't belong never was - but he jammed it into one of the keyholes of box 65. In three seconds, it had expanded enough to fill the hole, and Jackie yanked on it hard.

The box ripped out of the wall. An alarm blared.

There was the report of a gun behind him, and Jackie felt the impact of a bullet into the back of his head. He ignored it. The safe-deposit box only had three things in it. He shoved them into his hoodie pocket, left the box on the table, and turned to leave.

The older bank employee, holding a gun, scrambled out of the way.

Without a hitch. Everything had worked out. The police were on their way, but Jackie had that covered.

There was someone outside of the bank. Everything had not worked out without a hitch.

Someone came in through the empty doorway. A man dressed all in black, wearing a green Mardi Gras mask. Fucking vigilante with nothing better to do.

"Get out of my way."

"Drop the hostage." What a familiar voice coming from behind a less familiar mask.

"You? _You're_ a vigilante? Bullshit. Don't tell me you've changed. You couldn't."

A moment later, a fist connected with Jackie's jaw, sending him reeling. The hostage scrambled away frantically from Jackie's loosened grip.

A few blows landed on Jackie before he managed to get ahold of the other's shirt.

The vigilante struggled, although not as much as Jackie knew he could. Jackie tossed him through the wall with a shower of plaster dust and ran out of the bank.

There were the police. He'd been delayed long enough for them to arrive. Not a fucking problem. Not a fucking problem.

Jackie knelt, leapt high, angled his body, and landed next to his van across the street, scrambling in through the door still ajar. As soon as he pulled the vehicle into drive, he floored it. Obviously the police would follow him, would know the van was his, but no one could drive like Jackie.

Even with one hand. The other fumbled at the radio, turning up the volume and jamming a USB drive into the port below the radio. The van's cabin was filled with police radio chatter now.

"Units in division 5, if you're in your cars, be ready. Pursuit of a masked criminal in a white panel van, no tags."

"Powers?"

"Unknown. Bright red hoodie, blue mask. Green hair. White man, probably."

Jackie pulled his mask off his face with his free hand and smoothed back his hair to take off his hood. In the rear-view mirror, his hair turned from green to brown. He ran his hand down his chest, and the hoodie's color changed to a dark red.

Moments later, a crackling voice: "We've lost the van. Units around Oakland Street, keep an eye out."

Nice try. Jackie decelerated and punched a button he'd built into the dashboard. There'd be a plate on the back of his van now. He turned a corner. A police officer waved him over. Jackie sat on his mask, which decided to mold to his ass, and turned the radio all the way down. He pulled over and rolled down the window.

"Hello, officer. Is there a problem?" Jackie dropped the English accent he'd been using in the bank.

"We're looking for someone, sir. Do you mind if I look in the back of your van?"

"I think I'd notice if someone was in the back, but okay. I'll grab my key from the glove box."

Jackie reached down to scratch his ass, actually just pushing the mask farther up where it'd be covered by his hoodie when he stood up. He leaned over to the glove box and clicked it open. There were two folded spare masks in there on top of a blanket, gloves, and the key to the back. The cop wouldn't recognize what the masks were folded, so it was good they hadn't decided to expand like they sometimes did.

Jackie took the key and got out of his car, letting his hoodie fall to cover his mask.

"The back is a mess, so I apologize." He turned the key in the back door and opened it for the policeman.

"Do you live in here?" The back of the van was stuffed with a twin mattress, blankets, and all kinds of things around the mattress.

Jackie shook his head. "I have an apartment, but I travel a lot. I sleep in here about half the time. Is everything resolved? Am I free to go?"

"Thank you, sir. I'm going to have to write you a ticket for driving without a seat belt, but after that, you're free to go."

Jackie groaned. "Fuck. I didn't even realize."

Finally, Jackie drove away with a brand new traffic ticket in his passenger seat and his mask still adhered to his ass.

Without a hitch, without a hitch. He'd taken the contents of the box without a hitch.

So of course, when he got home, he found a masked man sitting in the dark in his living room.

A man dressed all in black, wearing a green Mardi Gras mask.

"What's your problem? Why did you confront me at the bank?"

"I can't make it that easy, can I?" The man's fake voice had been dropped, and his rough natural voice was evident.

"You can. You made me like this. You had me join your side, and now _you're_  a vigilante?"

The masked man leaned forwards and pointed at Jackie. "Obviously not. You hate me, don't you?"

"I don't _hate_  you. I'd happily kill you. It's different."

"You've still got a bit of that superhero spirit in you, don't you? Turn on the light. The windows aren't bright enough."

Jackie obeyed. The other pulled down the collar of his t-shirt to reveal a long scar stretching across the base of his throat.

"Remember seeing this? You can't fucking kill me. I would rip you limb from limb. If I want to make people believe I'm on their side, I will. You don't need to worry about my motives, Jackie. You don't need to worry about me. But remember, I can match everything you throw at me. If you want to go after me for whatever reason, I'll kill you and dump your ex-hero body in the street for anyone to see and remember when _that mask_  meant someone who would save them."

Jackie blinked and opened his mouth, trying to think of what he wanted to say. "Wh- Why are you coming here to tell me this? I didn't threaten you at the bank. I don't know what you're doing. You could have just avoided me. I would have been completely fine with that."

The other laughed humorlessly. "Believe me, Jackie, you'll know. You'll know. And tell your little boss to stay away from me. I'm on my own now." With that, there was a pop and the green-masked man vanished.

Jackie stared into the place where he'd been, still blinking in confusion.

Eventually, he sat down and pulled the objects out of his pocket. Some jewelry and... a stick? Was this worth it?

There was a knock on the door. Jackie shoved the objects back into his pocket and trotted to look through the peephole. On the other side, he saw only a blue eye pressed to the hole. Ah. So that's who it was. Jackie opened the door.

"Hello, dove. May I come in?" Marvin grinned down at Jackie, his eyes sparkling.

Jackie found that his palms were sweating. "Look, Marv, I don't know. I haven't seen you in a while, and I... I've been trying to live a regular life."

"Please? I brought food for you. I know you're trying to get back to a regular job, of course I do, but I just want to talk to you. I've missed your presence."

Jackie looked down at Marvin's feet and back up to his face, acutely aware of the stolen goods in his hoodie pocket. "I mean... for a little while? I have some work to do, and I just got home."

Marvin beamed and swept past Jackie into his apartment. "I have too many leftovers from a feast I had with the team. We've missed you, Jackie, we all have. I'm giving you this not to get you back into the business, I _promise_ , I just have too much."

Jackie laughed quietly, his heart pounding. If Marvin found out... "I'll happily take your leftovers, Marv."

"I heard on the radio that there's a mask using your colors who's sprung up since you left. Do you want me to teach them a lesson?"

"No, Marv, really, it's okay. I'm not coming back. They can take my colors."

"They're not a good mask, Jackie."

Jackie looked down again, following Marvin into the dining room. "Leave them alone about my colors. If they kill someone, kill them."

Marvin barked a surprised laugh. "You've changed since you've left."

"No, that was a joke. Sorry. Have they killed anyone?"

"Not yet." He set the bag he was carrying down on the dining room table. "Do you listen to the news at all?"

Jackie fiddled with the necklace in his pocket. "No. I don't want to hear about what you're doing. I'd rather live a normal life than be tempted by the mask again."

There was a long silence as Marvin took containers of food out of the bag and put them on the table. Finally: "Jackie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do I remind you too much of that?"

Jackie sighed. "You remind me of how happy I was."

"Why did you leave, then?"

"Marv, I..." Jackie took a hand out of his pocket and ran it through his hair, making sure he only went the direction that didn't trigger the pigment change. "I don't think there was a single thing that led to my decision. But I'm almost thirty. I think it's time for me to put away the mask."

The doorbell rang. Jackie's heart skipped a beat.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. "You have a doorbell?"

"Not like you'd use it." Jackie headed for the door, leaving Marvin in the dining room by himself.

The peephole displayed the absolute last person Jackie wanted to see at the moment. He opened the door.

"Hello, Doctor," he said loudly, and then, quieter, "I have a guest at the moment."

As the doctor came in, he removed the black coat he was wearing and hung it on the wall.

"Are you cold?" Jackie asked, nervously fiddling with the items in his pocket.

"The coat is for style."

Marvin poked his head out of the dining room doorway. "Sorry, Jackie, were you expecting a guest?"

"No, Marv, I'm sorry. You don't need to worry about it."

The doctor smiled at Marvin, a smile that always made Jackie's blood run cold but didn't seem to phase anyone who didn't know him.

"It's nice to meet you. I am Dr. Schneeplestein."

Marvin came over to shake the doctor's hand. "I'm Marvin. I'm an old friend of Jackie's." No. No. Bad.

"Ah, an old friend of yours? Must be a good one." This was directed towards Jackie, accompanied by that smile.

Jackie squirmed. This wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. The doctor should never meet any of his old friends, because he knew. He knew more than Marvin. And he was seeing the hero with his mask off. "Very good. Marvin, I'm sorry, I forgot I was meeting with the doctor today."

"It's okay, I'll be on my way. You don't need to worry about the food containers, they're disposable. Contact me if you need anything. You know I live nearby."

"Okay. Thanks. Bye, Marv."

"Bye, Jackie." Marvin swept past the other two, stopping only to try to hug Jackie and to cast a knowing look between him and the doctor when Jackie stepped back. Except he didn't know. He didn't know at all.

When the door closed behind Marvin, the doctor looked at Jackie.

"So. I have just met one of your old friends."

"Not a hero, sir, just an... ex."

"Do not lie to me."

Jackie cowered. "Don't kill him."

"Did you take what I asked you to take?"

Jackie pulled the objects out of his pocket and handed them over. "Please don't kill him."

"You have not yet spent enough time with me, I see." The doctor put the jewelry in his pocket and turned the stick in his hands. "Very good. You will be rewarded well for this."

"What is it?"

"It is mine now." And he did not say any more.

Jackie's palms were sweating even more now, and his mind was racing with worry.

"Doctor, do you remember the man with a green mask?"

"Why would I not remember someone who works for me? His name is Anti. You know that."

The name struck Jackie hard. Of course he knew. A wave of memories came along with the name, and he actually stumbled upon recalling them all.

"Of course, of course. You will forget again." Through the overwhelming rush of memories and _pain_  in Jackie's mind, he could see the doctor's cruel smile watching him.

"Anti..." Jackie could barely process everything running through his head. He couldn't piece together each individual memory, but the fear that strung them all together paralyzed his limbs and made his teeth chatter.

"What did you want to tell me about the man who wears a green mask, puppet?" The trigger word reset everything, locking the memories away again, and Jackie shook himself, feeling more uneasy than before for no apparent reason.

"I saw him here when I returned, and he told me that he's working for himself now, and you should stay away, sir."

The doctor chuckled grimly. "We will see how long that lasts. Continue with your cover job. I will have another assignment for you soon." With that, he turned, took his coat from the wall, and left.

Jackie was finally alone. The adrenaline from the heist and chase had worn off, and now he was tired. He sank down on his couch, pulling his hood over his head and staring into nothing. And imagine, after all of that excitement he still had work to do. His 'cover job' was still a real job, after all.

Jackie sank further into the couch, burying his hands in his hoodie pocket. His mask pressed into the bottom of his back. Oh, yeah. He reached back to peel it off his ass. The stiff and empty eye holes stared back at him.

"Fucking _novel_   _editing_. This is the worst job the doctor could have picked for me," Jackie told the mask. It didn't answer. He sighed, put it in his pocket, and reluctantly stood up to head for his office.

 

Jackie was unwillingly wrenched out of a rare good sleep with some blaring orchestral music. The doctor's ringtone.

He fumbled for his phone and somehow managed to answer it. "What?"

"Wake up before I talk to you. Stand up."

Jackie got up. His room was cold. He crossed an arm over his chest and stood trembling next to his bed, his phone clutched tightly to his ear. "I'm standing up."

The doctor's voice was curt. "Ryan Hart. Walks to the office every day along Frank Avenue from an alley in between Fourteenth and Fifteenth Street where his private apartment entrance is located. You will be in the alley this morning at eight. I need his briefcase."

Jackie checked the time on his phone. Five o'clock. "Doctor-" Don't question the doctor. "I understand. How do you want me to get it from him?"

"I do not care at all. Kill him if you must. He is not important." The doctor hung up, and Jackie was left standing, awake, three hours before he needed to rob a man. God. Fucking. Why did the doctor do this? He could wake Jackie up at seven, maybe, and he'd be at the alley in time. Of course it was when he was actually sound asleep, too. Well. It didn't do any good to question the doctor, and to criticize could do harm.

So Jackie put his phone down, put on real clothes, and headed to the kitchen to cook himself breakfast.


	2. In Which Plans Go Awry, and a New Plan is Formed

The nice thing about a white panel van was that it could be parked in an alley between apartment buildings without raising alarm. It was a chilly morning, and sitting on top of dumpsters like he sometimes had to wasn't something Jackie wanted to do.

Inside the van, he could listen to the radio and keep an eye out for this Ryan Hart person. The seven o'clock national news wasn't even that bad. Sure, it talked about crime and vigilantes too, but not _as_  much as the local news. And it wasn't names Jackie personally recognized.

He'd parked at 7:55, though, and the local news resumed at eight with a "It's eight o'clock, and I'm Bethany Potter with Morning Update."

Jackie tousled his hair until it turned green and pulled his hood up over his head.

"Last night at eight, a locally owned grocery store on Greene Street was robbed by two armed men. Before they could escape, a man wearing black clothing and a green mask appeared out of thin air and knocked them cold. I have mask expert Evelyn Craven here to tell us if this is the debut of a new vigilante or just an everyday crime. Good m-"

"I hate the news," Jackie proclaimed, and turned the radio all the way down. He crossed his arms over his chest. They needed to shut the fuck up and not feed the damn masks' egos. Not that Jackie hadn't liked the news talking about him back then.

Oh, look. 8:06. Here was his target. Ryan Hart. Jackie pressed his mask onto his face and got out of the van. Hart stopped, looking nervous.

"Give me the briefcase and you won't get hurt." Jackie held his hand out.

Hart looked down at his briefcase and then back up at Jackie. He hoisted the briefcase as if to try to open it while standing. Jackie took several quick steps forward and punched him in the forehead. Hart swayed and collapsed to the ground.

Jackie knelt to check his pulse - still there, good - and to open the briefcase. A slightly smushed sandwich in a plastic bag was on top, and Jackie took it out to tuck it inside Hart's jacket. He picked up the man and dumped him in something like a sitting position against the wall. Okay. That was easy. Jackie went back to his van and turned the key in the ignition.

 

If there was one thing Jackie liked, it was coffee. And if there was one coffee shop he liked, it was Detroit Bean. He had no idea what the coffee tasted like in Detroit, but at Detroit Bean, it was fucking good. The baristas there were the only people besides the doctor he regularly saw anymore, which was kind of depressing, but coffee. He'd always liked sitting in the front window and watching people walk by.

That was what he was doing now. It was 8:30, and Detroit Bean was packed. His hazelnut coffee was just as good as it always was, and no one was sitting immediately next to him. Disregarding the bit of work stuff earlier, the morning was going nicely.

"Jackie."

Jackie jumped. The voice had come from behind him and seemed very familiar. He turned around.

Silver towered over him, her hair swept up in a bun and her appearance striking as always.

"Oh, Silver, hi," Jackie said, starting to fiddle with the paper sleeve around his cup.

"Can I sit down?" Without waiting for an answer, she took a seat next to him. "How's your new job?"

Jackie shrugged. "Not as good. I kind of miss it, but on the other hand, steady income."

"Did you hear on the news? It looks like there's a new mask in town. The void you left might have finally been filled."

Jackie knew it was a joke, but he felt a pang in his chest all the same. "Actually," he said, "I've met him."

Silver raised an eyebrow. "Really? Does he have any powers other than the teleportation they were talking about?"

"I don't really know." Jackie took a sip of his coffee. Mm, dirty bean water. "But he's kind of a dick. You guys should stay away from him if you can."

"Chase was kind of a dick when we met him."

"Chase was a depressed alcoholic. He was a dick because no one had ever treated him kindly. This mask isn't anything like him."

"Is he an ex of yours?"

Jackie almost spit out his coffee. Silver laughed. "No, he's not my ex, Jesus Christ, Silver. He heard my voice and told me that if I put on my mask again and tried to get in his way to fame or some shit he'd kill me." Wow. Jackie had been planning on telling her something much farther from the truth.

"Wow, fuck." Silver took a drink from a cup Jackie hadn't even noticed she was holding. "Okay. I thought you used a different voice back then, though?"

Jackie swallowed. Yeah, he hadn't thought that one through. Fuck. "I did, but I'm sure I slipped sometimes. Or maybe he's just good at figuring out what someone's real accent is."

"If that's the case, we're all doomed, Jackie." Silver made a face and drained the rest of her coffee. "I'll leave you alone. I have to meet with Chase at nine."

"Bye, Silver. I'm... sorry. For leaving. For not talking to you and Marv and Chase for so long. I just... don't want to be tempted back." Jackie sighed. "I miss you."

"It's okay, Jackie. I'm sure any of us would have to do the same thing for a while if we left." Silver reached out and ruffled Jackie's hair. Jackie almost flinched, convinced that she'd accidentally activate the green pigment. "I'll see you, I hope."

"I hope so, too."

And Silver was off, her steel-toed boots clicking against the floor as she walked towards the exit.

Jackie took a sip of his coffee, which was now lukewarm. He missed the constant meetings with Chase to help him with whatever nonsense he was up to at the time. He missed... not having to lie to his friends. To the people who used to be his friends. Jackie sighed.

"Will I ever forgive myself?" he asked his coffee cup, which didn't answer.

 

Four days and a little petty crime later, Jackie found himself in another bank, repeating the steps he'd used last time.

He'd gotten as far as wrenching the safe-deposit box out of the wall when there was a popping sound behind him and displaced air tickled the hair that poked out from under his hoodie.

Jackie froze. Fuck.

"Look who's robbing another bank." That nasty tone belonged to the man with the green mask. "Too bad I have to kick your ass."

In the blink of an eye, a weird feeling shot through Jackie, his heart skipped a beat, his hands dropped the safe-deposit box, and he and the vigilante were in the lobby of the bank. Jackie stumbled, suddenly dizzy. A hand grabbed the back of his hoodie and yanked him back to his feet.

Jackie was disoriented. The teleportation had fucked something up inside of him that sensed where he was in space, and detachedly he noticed that the fist that was suddenly heading towards his face was going to fuck him up as well.

Jackie was shot back into reality as the fist connected with a concerning _crunch_  and a shock of pain. Fuck, fuck, fuck, his nose might have just broken. He flailed his fists until they connected solidly with something and took the opportunity to run for the door.

Great, the police weren't there yet. He sprinted to his van and pulled it into drive and sped away from the bank. If the green-masked man actually wanted to catch him, of course, he'd be fucked either way. He clearly knew where Jackie lived. But Jackie had to go home. All of his supplies were there, and the doctor was going to be by later to pick up whatever he'd tried to steal just now.

Once he'd taken his mask and hood off and fixed his hair, Jackie pulled over to look at his nose in the rear-view mirror. Fuck, that wasn't pretty. Looked like it was broken. But if there was one good thing about working for the doctor, it was his 'healing salve' things. They worked like magic, even though the doctor insisted they weren't, and once Jackie sat through the doctor setting his nose back in place and applying the salve patch, his nose would heal pretty much immediately. Good as new.

But, fuck. What if the doctor did that and then broke his nose again to punish him for his failure? Jackie was pretty sure the main reason the doctor had invented the salve was to heal people after he hurt them so that they'd last longer. He didn't know for sure, of course, but it was probably a safe guess. And that would _not_  be nice.

But if he wasn't home when the doctor came, Jackie would be in even more trouble. He took his foot off the brake and pulled back into the street.

 

As expected, the doctor arrived at precisely 3:30 in his black coat and gloves.

"Good afternoon. Must I repair your nose again?"

Right into it. "Yes, sir."

The doctor swept past Jackie and planted himself on the couch to root through his briefcase. "Come here."

Jackie went over to sit on the couch next to him, his hands buried in his pocket and his anxiety about what would happen when the doctor learned he'd failed dampening his palms with sweat.

"Sit still." The doctor reached up, and, causing a short jolt of pain, shoved Jackie's nose back into place. Before Jackie could say anything, a salve patch was being placed over the bridge of his nose and smoothed down. "Take this off in an hour. Wash your face. Do not leave it longer." The doctor closed his briefcase. "Now, do you have what I asked you to take? Does your broken nose mean what I fear it does?"

Jackie looked down. "Yes, sir. The man in the green mask..."

The doctor stood up and began to pace, his hands buried in his pockets. "How dare he. He deserts _me_  and gets in _my way_." As he spoke, his voice grew louder and louder. "I entrusted him with the job of securing me the people I need for my work, and he turns on me like this? He values the _fame_ now over the _money_?"

The doctor spun on his heel to look at Jackie, pointing a vicious finger. "You failed."

Jackie cowered. The doctor was intimidating even when he wasn't angry, and when he _was_ angry he seemed like he could rip Jackie in half.

"I told you to take what I wanted. You allowed him to drive you away."

"He teleported me, and it was disorienting-"

"You thought he would kill you? If you turn around and run away, you are _weak_."

"I wouldn't have been able to take what you wanted with him there."

The doctor growled. "I will be back. Leave your front door unlocked." With that, he stood up again and stormed towards the door, his bag in tow.

When the door closed, Jackie allowed himself to relax. The doctor was going to go calm down by some means other than hurting Jackie. He'd probably hurt someone else, but it wasn't going to be Jackie.

 

The doctor returned in less than an hour, opening the door and coming in without knocking. He hung up his coat next to the door.

"He is pretending to be good now? He pretends he is truly a vigilante?" The doctor came to stand in front of Jackie. "I know what we will do."

Jackie looked up at him. He was certain he'd be the one executing the doctor's plan, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"He broke you and brought you to me. He seems to be... _interested_  in you still. You will be bait for him. When we are ready, you will do whatever you judge to be the most likely to attract him and no one else."

Jackie's eyes wandered, noticing flecks of fresh blood on the doctor's white shirt.

"You will engage him in combat. You will use the earliest opportunity you have to place on him a device that I will make to ensure he cannot teleport."

"Do I have to kill him?" The doctor had never had Jackie kill anyone. Jackie suspected he enjoyed doing that work himself.

Sure enough, "No. You will then disable him and summon me, and I will make sure he dies a long and painful death." The doctor looked down at his hands, seeming to finally realize that there was still flecked blood on his knuckles and beginning to rub it off. "This, of course, cannot happen immediately. Once I make plans for the device, all of your assignments will help me get the components I need. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir." Apprehension churned in Jackie's stomach. The green-masked man would probably fuck him up before he could put some patch thing on him, and that would make it a hell of a lot harder.

"If I have jobs for you before the plans are ready, I will give you updates on my progress when I call you. Good afternoon."

The doctor took his coat and left. In his absence, the apartment was silent.


	3. In Which Marvin Assumes Things That Are Untrue

Nights at the lake were chilly. Fog rolled in over the water, especially in the late fall and early winter before the lake's edges froze over. Tendrils of fog twined around Jackie's van and made it seem like he was the only person in the world. In the summer, the scream of cicadas could be heard at all hours, but in the winter it was quiet but for the wind and sometimes the cries of coyotes in the distance.

This was what the bed in the back of his van was for most of the time. With piles of blankets, two windows cracked for circulation, and a small and ill-advised space heater, Jackie could camp out in his van next to the lake. Although it wasn't very far from the city, there was another, larger, lake even closer than this one, so Jackie's van was almost always alone in the small gravel lot. And that was just what he wanted.

Alone, Jackie could do whatever he wanted. He wasn't a mask, he wasn't anyone. One time, years ago, he'd woken up in the middle of the night to swim out to the tiny island on the other side of the lake to listen to the cicadas and look at the stars from there. One time, he'd been a tired college student with his tired and admittedly pretty telekinetic college student boyfriend, and they'd opened the back of his van and looked out at the fog drifting over the lake and fallen asleep with about six blankets wrapped around them.

The lake wasn't as relaxing as it had been in the past. Even a year ago, the loneliness had brought nothing but peace to Jackie's mind. Now, the solitude wasn't so unique, and although the sounds of the lake calmed him, the thoughts that plagued Jackie at night still came crawling in. Shame and guilt and _nightmares_. The nightmares that came every night and woke Jackie up in a cold sweat, unable to remember what they contained but still full of unshakable clammy fear.

That was why Jackie was awake at six-thirty in the morning again, watching the sky gradually lighten over the pines. Nightmares were a bitch. He'd gladly fight them at two in the morning in a Denny's parking lot and get his ass handed to him. It would be worth it.

Finally, he stirred from his blanket mound on the mattress and crawled into the driver's seat. If he wanted coffee, he'd have to head back to the city. There was a little hand-made furniture shop on the road back that had owners he was friendly with, and they'd usually be on the front porch at sunrise for their breakfast. If he stopped in and chatted with them, they'd give him a cup of coffee. Old people. Friendly. Occasionally had him move big fucking logs for them.

  
  
Jackie had chatted with the store owners for a long time, and it was eight by the time he arrived back on his block. What luck, of course, that the local news welcomed him with "The masked vigilante who has stopped several crimes within the last two weeks was seen last night spray-painting 'Antiseptic' onto the side of a bridge. I have mask expert Evelyn Craven with me this morning to speak with me about the possible confirmation of Antiseptic as a permanent figure in the city."

"Welcome home," grumbled Jackie, parked his van in his parking spot, and turned it off so he didn't have to hear the radio.

Was Antiseptic really what that dick was called? Was that what he'd called himself before? Was he saying that Jackie was contaminating the city? Rude bitch. Jackie laughed curtly and got out of the van.

Jackie probably wouldn't have come home if he didn't need to check his phone. But, out of habit, he never brought it anywhere with him, so it was still on his bedside table. The doctor, unfortunately, liked to call him in the early morning, so if he'd called, Jackie had missed it.

And he had. There was a voicemail.

"I need you to visit the Heyens-Nayer building. Room B102 in the first basement belongs to a Doctor Generin. She has several papers I need you to take for my plans. I will put a keycard for the Heyens-Nayer building under your door if you are not home when I come to visit. You will go to her office tonight after ten and take a folder marked 'Red Card E-6'. I will pick it up tomorrow. Remember that I need this to make the device to stop the deserter disorienting you again by teleportation." The message ended. Jackie looked down at the keycard he'd picked up upon entering his apartment. It had his picture and someone else's name. Apparently, he was an intern. Robert Cummings. Wow, very mature last name. Very mature of Jackie to laugh at it.

 

Despite the fact that his fake last name was Cummings, Jackie managed to get in and out of the Heyens-Nayer building that evening with no violence and with the folder the doctor wanted. He fucking hated jobs he couldn't wear his mask for. If he was caught, they'd be able to see his face immediately. That made Jackie nervous. But even though he was nervous, he pulled it all off without a hitch and came home at midnight completely intact.

 

The doctor arrived at precisely 3:30 the next afternoon, a briefcase in his hand and bags under his eyes. He seemed exhausted, like he hadn't slept at all.

"I have told you before that you should bring your phone with you when you are not returning home."

Well, that was true. "Sorry." Jackie scratched his neck sheepishly. "It's habit."

"I know. Six years is not an easy habit to defy. I hope you were able to obtain the papers." The doctor closed the door behind him and took a seat on the sofa to open his briefcase. His voice followed Jackie into the office, where the stolen papers were hidden beneath a ream of copy paper. "That file contains Doctor Generin's notes on a part of a similar device she was attempting to make several years ago. She published her results in a journal I read, but she never made a working device and abandoned the project two years ago. I modified her plans. They should work if I can determine what the mistake was in this part."

Jackie returned to the doctor, folder in hand. "So you'll be done soon?"

"I think I will finish this evening. I have not slept in three days."

What? "Doctor, don't you have a civilian job?"

The doctor shot him a look. "As far as they are concerned, I have been sick for three days." He put the folder in his briefcase and snapped it shut. "I am able to feign sickness as well."

There was a knock on the door. Jackie looked up, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears.

"Did you expect a visitor?"

"No, sir."

"I hope it is a salesman and not the police. Open the door."

Jackie stood up. There was no reason he'd be especially fucked if it were the police, but that would mean they knew he existed.

The peephole showed a blue eye. Great. Jackie opened the door a crack. "I have a guest, can you wait?"

"Sorry, dove. Is tomorrow better?" Marvin smiled at him.

The doctor spoke from behind Jackie. "Let him in. I was not going to be here much longer."

Really? Of course the doctor knew that Jackie didn't want him to interact with Marvin. Of course he'd fucking want to talk to Marvin, then, to remind Jackie of why that was. God fucking dammit. Jackie opened the door all the way. "You can come in, I guess."

Marvin entered the apartment and plopped a grocery bag on the floor. "It's nice to meet you again, Doctor...?"

"Schneeplestein." Jackie could hear the doctor smiling at Marvin. He closed the door. "Do you visit often? I have not seen you here before this week."

"The first time I met you was the first time I've been here. Jackie and I haven't seen each other in a while, and I wanted to reconnect."

"Do you have any more instructions for me before you go, Doctor?" Jackie's voice was quiet.

The doctor turned his smile on Jackie. A chill ran down Jackie's spine. "I will call you later this evening if I come up with anything that was missed or forgotten. Good afternoon, Jackie, Marvin." He stood up and swept towards the door, brushing past Jackie more than he needed to and raising goosebumps on Jackie's skin.

Once he was gone, Jackie locked the door and went to settle next to Marvin on the couch.

"So he's part of your new life?"

"I guess." Jackie's body wanted to curl into Marvin, but he was still tense from the momentary interaction.

"Is he your-"

"My boyfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck, no." Jackie forced a laugh. "He's like twenty years older than I am, Marv. He could be my dad."

Marvin smiled at him teasingly. "Not your sugar daddy?"

"Shut the fuck up." Marvin's familiar teasing had loosened Jackie's nerves a little, but now his heart ached just a bit more. "I bet he's rich as fuck, though. He could be."

"Your sexy German sugar daddy."

"Yeah." Jackie leaned against Marvin, and the hero's arm automatically went around his shoulder to pull him closer. Jackie didn't resist. "I could ask."

"I don't think you're young and interesting enough anymore." Marvin chuckled.

Jackie turned his head to scowl up at Marvin. "Fuck you. I am."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No." Loneliness filled Jackie's limbs and made them weigh a thousand pounds each. He didn't speak for a while, but when he felt Marvin breathe in as if he were about to speak again, he muttered, "I miss you."

"I know. I miss you, too. I wish I could be around you without making you feel like this."

Jackie pulled his feet up onto the couch and curled into Marvin. His eyes were starting to sting.

"You can visit the base or my apartment anytime you want to see me, you know. A year apart after nearly ten years together is... hard. You know that's why I'm here right now."

Jackie bit back tears. "I know. I'm sorry. I love you, but I just... couldn't be a mask anymore."

"In a year or two. I'll join you. Once I get my fighting energy out. We won't have to avoid Chase and Silver. I don't think they're ever going to stop mask work."

"Yeah." A salty tear rolled down Jackie's face and into his mouth. He wasn't out. He hadn't stopped. He might not ever be able to stop. More tears followed, and soon he was pressed tighter against Marvin's chest, sobbing.

Marvin tightened his grip on Jackie, no longer speaking except for tiny 'shh's.

After a long, long time, Jackie was curled with his head on Marvin's lap, his tears finally starting to dry and one of his hands firmly twined with Marvin's.

"You need some good friends, Jackie. Do you have any? I think you've taken this harder because you don't have anyone like Chase and Silver to go to."

"No," Jackie mumbled into Marvin's lap. He was tired now, and both he and Marvin knew it. "Working from home fucks me when I don't have anybody I'm regularly with. I'm lonely."

Marvin stroked Jackie's shoulder. "Please get some friends. For me."

Jackie hummed, his eyelids drooping. "Okay." But of course he wouldn't.


	4. In Which A Device Is Completed

"Hey, Jackie." Something nudged Jackie's shoulder. He shifted, awareness of the situation slowly entering his system.

"Hmm?"

"Jackie, wake up, dove."

Jackie squeezed whatever his hand was around, found that it was Marvin's hand, and finally opened his eyes. "Yeah?"

"I'm waking you up to tell you I have to go. Chase texted. You know."

"What time's it?"

"Six. I didn't want to wake you up until it was time for me to leave."

Jackie slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Okay, have fun."

"Eat something before you go to bed." Marvin stood up and stretched.

Jackie groaned. "Are you my dad? I'm not tired."

"Dove, you slept on my lap for two hours. My leg's asleep."

Oops. "Sorry."

Marvin chuckled. "You know it's okay." He reached down to pat Jackie's head. "The bag I brought has vegetables in it. You haven't forgotten vegetables, have you?"  
Admittedly, most of the time, Jackie forgot vegetables. "No. You brought a bag?"

"I put it in the refrigerator while you were sleeping." The refrigerator in the kitchen opened and closed to demonstrate. "I didn't want to get up and wake you up."

Wow. Telekinetics. Always using their fucking telekinesis to put things away. Jackie rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Thank you for the vegetables, Dad."

"I'll be back next week."

"With more vegetables?"

"Maybe."

"Bye, Marv."

"Bye, Jackie." The door opened on its own as Marvin approached it, and behind him, the lock turned to fasten the door again.

Jackie was alone.

He put his hands in his pocket and looked up at the ceiling. Vegetables? Should he make food? Finally, he stood up to go to the kitchen. From his bedroom, the muffled sound of classical music was playing. The phone. Food could wait, then.

In the bedroom, Jackie flipped his phone open. "Doctor?"

"I am finished with the plans. I will meet with you at your apartment in two days to give you the device. Use this time to think of a plan to meet with Antiseptic only."

Before Jackie could reply, the doctor hung up. Great. Jackie was really looking forward to intentionally fighting someone in a few days. It wasn't like he wanted to avoid Antiseptic at all. He was so fucking excited about the possibility he'd be teleported again. Jackie snorted, flipped his phone shut, and put it down.

"Is this even going to work?" he asked his bedroom wall. There was no response.

 

The device looked kind of like a robot's pincer hand if all of the fingers were folded back and some kind of flat sensor was added to the palm. The doctor had said that it just needed to be slapped sensor-first onto the skin of a teleporter, and it would work without any further input. That sounded easy.

That sounded like something Jackie could easily fuck up if the teleporter happened to, well, _teleport_.

The doctor had explained that the device would plunge a needle into the skin of its target that emitted something-or-other to disrupt that person's power. Of course, it was untested, and if the device were to clamp onto Antiseptic and not do what it was designed to do, Jackie would almost certainly be killed. The doctor hadn't mentioned that potential outcome.

Maybe he didn't believe the device could possibly fail.

Maybe he didn't care.

It was probably some combination of the two, and Jackie could understand that. None of the doctor's inventions had ever failed Jackie before, but he knew that they'd all gone through tests to make sure they were the best they could be. And Jackie knew that the doctor viewed him as ultimately disposable. If he were to run away, it would be different, but if he were killed, the doctor would just find another person to do his grunt work.

That wasn't something Jackie needed to worry about. He would have to put the device on Antiseptic no matter what, so he'd come up with a plan to catch him.

Jackie was going to rob an art gallery in broad daylight.

 

It wasn't like Jackie had never robbed a gallery before. He'd just never done it in the middle of the day. Most vigilantes were at their civilian jobs or asleep during the day, but Jackie knew for a fact that Antiseptic was mostly active in the daylight hours. Jackie had also never robbed anywhere with the specific goal of drawing attention, and going from silent break-ins to loud, showy, and amateurish chaos was an unnatural step.

This gallery had domed skylights set into the ceiling. The largest room of the gallery, currently displaying paintings by some local artist that were worth tens of thousands of dollars, had the biggest skylights of all, and Jackie was going to punch one in.

The skylights were reinforced glass, so to punch one in required eight blows from even Jackie. Eight, and an alarm went off. The people in the gallery below him looked shocked. Just for the fuck of it, Jackie went to punch in another skylight. The alarm continued to go off.

Finally, Jackie dropped into the gallery, his sneakers thudding against the floor, and further spooked a crowd of already nervous patrons.

He examined the paintings on the wall before him. Something gnawed at him. Something was wrong. Not with the paintings, but with his plan.

Behind him, beyond the frightened mutterings and shiftings of the people around him and beyond the now-distant call of the alarm, Jackie heard the whisper of a walkie-talkie and the quiet reply of a damningly familiar voice.

Silver.

Fuck. This wasn't his goal. This wasn't his goal at all.

Jackie turned around casually. No one was in the doorway. He bent his knees and leapt up through the skylight again.

As he landed on the roof, Jackie caught sight of another red-hooded figure on the side of the roof that looked over the gallery's loading dock. Chase, facing away from Jackie. Jackie glanced over at the short building next to the gallery. Chase didn't know he was there yet, and Jackie, after his year apart from the team, knew his way around the short roofs of the art district.

Jackie sprinted for the edge of the roof and jumped the fifteen feet to the next one, seeing Chase turn out of the corner of his eye.

Jackie had done enough chases when he'd been on the team to know that none of the rest of the group, especially Chase, could catch someone if the situation turned into a pursuit.

After leaping from roof to roof halfway across the art district, Jackie jumped down to the ground in an alley and quickly removed his disguise.

Who else had been in the gallery? Silver? He hadn't seen anyone when he'd looked behind him, so she could have been watching him through the wall. Marvin? But he hadn't felt the telekinetic grasp on his clothes that Marvin used to limit the escape opportunities of criminals.

Would Marvin ever forgive him if he found out?

That was a question that had occurred to him again and again over the past year.

Would any of them forgive him? If he explained that he'd never wanted to?

Jackie slumped against the dirty alley wall.

It wouldn't matter if they forgave him if Antiseptic killed him.

And, fortunately, Jackie had come up with a backup plan. That night, he was going to attempt to steal an entire ATM.

 

Stealing an ATM was probably the stupidest thing Jackie had ever done, even considering all of the stupid shit he'd been up to in high school. The ATM wasn't far from the banks he'd robbed before and stood alone outside of a post office.

At midnight, the area around the ATM was deserted. Jackie stood twenty feet away from the machine and stared at it, trying to figure out exactly _how_ he was going to rip the thing out of the ground. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to. Hopefully, the sound of the exploding diversion detonator he'd put at the base of the ATM would attract Antiseptic if he were nearby.

Jackie never got to try it out.

"Are you trying to get my attention?"

Jackie hadn't realized how tense he was until he nearly jumped out of his skin.

The voice behind him continued. "You have it. What do you want?"

Jackie turned to face Antiseptic, finding his voice. "I want to fight you. To make you pay."

Antiseptic laughed. "To make _me_ pay? I'll send you back to the doctor with your tail between your legs."

Jackie put his hands in his pocket, taking hold of the device. "Fuck you."

Antiseptic blinked out of existence with a _pop_ and appeared again, much closer to Jackie with two hands around his throat, choking him. Jackie gasped and put a hand up to try to pull Antiseptic's hands away. Thumbs pressed into his windpipe.

Device. Device. Jackie had to use the device, or Antiseptic would crush his throat. He pulled it out of his pocket and flung his hand up to press the device against the side of Antiseptic's neck.

The device vibrated slightly, and Jackie could feel the hiss of the needle jabbing out, piercing into Antiseptic's skin. Moments later, the anchoring arms folded down to adhere firmly to the vigilante.

Antiseptic let go of Jackie, looking bewildered, and put a hand up to the device.

Nothing happened for a second.

Then, his body seemed to fracture into a thousand tiny pieces, and what Jackie could see of the face beneath the mask twisted in agony. Another heartbeat, and his body re-formed, staggering suddenly.

"What did you do to me?" His natural voice, hoarse and harsh and angry. "What did you _do_?"

Jackie stepped back, suddenly gripped with fear. The anger in Antiseptic's eyes-

"Let me tell you something, _Sean_." Jackie's blood ran cold. Antiseptic knew his real name. "The doctor should have come and dealt with me himself. If he wanted me dead, he should have started and finished the job on his own." Antiseptic tugged at the device on his neck, but it didn't budge. "Do you know why?"

"W-why?" Jackie didn't know what the glint in Antiseptic's eyes meant, but it wasn't good.

"Because I own you. My name is Anti, and I did this to you. Do you remember?"

Memories rushed into Jackie's head, and he stumbled, catching himself on Antiseptic's shoulder. Anti. Anti shoved him off, and he fell to the ground. Nothing registered, no individual memories revealed themselves, but the paralyzing fear they carried was only magnified by Anti's presence before Jackie.

Anti did this. _Anti_ did this.

"Do you remember now?"

"Stop-" Jackie could barely hear himself speak. Whisper? Shout? The memories overwhelmed him. They were slowing down, and he could see bits. Repeated themes. Blood. Gore. The pallid faces of corpses.

In reality, which seemed like millions of miles away, Jackie dimly registered Anti bending down to pick his body up and sling him over his shoulder almost effortlessly.

Far away. "Go to sleep."

Obedient darkness flooded Jackie's mind, and the turmoil was cast away for a time.


	5. The Worms Will Come for You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'Man of War' by Radiohead.

Jackie was fucked. Jackie was completely and totally fucked.

He'd awoken slumped on the floor of a darkened room, the familiar pressure of his mask gone, the memories that had overwhelmed him earlier settled now in horrible order.

Jackie didn't want to think. Didn't want to remember. He slammed the back of his head against the wall. And again.

The door opened, letting light flood into the room. "You're awake?"

Jackie growled. "Yeah, I'm fucking awake."

"Good." Anti flicked on the light. The room was empty, and blackout curtains were drawn across the only window.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Anti came into the room to stand before Jackie. Jackie shifted nervously, trying to shrink into his hoodie.

"The doctor paid money for you. It's his decision whether or not to kill you." Anti squatted so their faces were level. A bolt of panic shot through Jackie, and he pressed against the wall in a useless attempt to get away. "You pissed me off with that invention of his. Once he kills you, I'm going to rip him apart. Think of it as revenge, Sean." Anti reached out and tapped the bottom of Jackie's chin. "You look terrified. Why don't you tell me what's going on in your mind? I've never reversed memory repression before. Did it work completely?"

Jackie didn't know, Jackie didn't _want_ to know if he had all of the memories that had been hidden away. What swam to the surface was bad enough.

When Jackie didn't answer, Anti chuckled. "I'm sure it's enough." He stood up. "Get up and come with me. I want to show you around before I let you go."

Jackie pulled his knees up to his chest and watched Anti walk to the doorway.

"Well? Stand up. This isn't a hotel, I kidnapped you. Don't you remember why you should obey me, Sean?"

All too well. Jackie slowly stood up, keeping his back pressed against the wall. It wasn't like he didn't believe Anti would let him go, but he now remembered the cause of those mysterious scars on his torso. It wasn't a sure thing that he'd be released in one piece.

Most of Anti's lair wasn't in the memories Jackie had regained. As he followed Anti through the dark dwelling, he caught glimpses into rooms stocked with banks of glowing computer monitors.

Anti stopped in front of the only closed door. "This is the master bedroom. You remember it, of course."

There was only one room Jackie remembered, hidden as an undertone behind everything else.

Anti opened the door. The room was well-lit and scarcely furnished. A person was huddled on the twin bed against the opposite wall, their back to Jackie, their form trembling like they were crying silently.

Jackie could barely pay attention to them. The room was the same one he'd been trapped in for nearly three weeks as Anti fed new memories into his head. It could be wallpapered with photos of the dead and dying bodies of his friends for all the images that hit Jackie upon first glance of the interior.

Anti tapped Jackie's back to usher him into the room, and Jackie stumbled forward like he'd been shoved.

"Jamie, you have a visitor." Anti closed the door behind them.

The body on the bed shifted, rolling over to stare at Jackie with sunken grey eyes behind an elegant black mask.

Jackie had worked with that mask before. He'd been active in the city since just before Chase had joined the team. " _Vengeance?_ "

A tired hand rose from the bed to sign, "Who are you?"

"It's Jackieboyman."

Anti cackled from behind Jackie's shoulder. "Not anymore. You don't deserve that name."

Vengeance sat up, looking Jackie up and down. "You're not dead? I thought-" He pushed the signs aside, shaking his head. "Stay away. It's not safe. He'll hurt you."

"I've already broken him, Jamie. I was paid well for it." Anti put a hand on Jackie's shoulder, and Jackie stiffened. "He'll be dead soon, but that's neither of our problems. Once he's out of my way, his doctor will be easy to take down. No more brainwashed thugs to guard him."

"Can you teleport again?" How Jackie hoped the answer was no.

Anti hissed. "Does it fucking matter? I'm going to break his fingers one by one until he tells me how to take this shit off my neck. He doesn't have any powers except that brain. He's easy."

Vengeance began to sign quickly, his hands moving so fast Jackie could barely read one sign before it changed into the next. "If you have the chance, kill him. Kill Anti. I don't know what he did to you, but I'm afraid. He's going to kill my friends. Royal, Violet-" He stopped, his hands dropping to his sides, and began to rock back and forth, staring over Jackie's shoulder at Anti.

"That should shut you up," Anti growled. "You'll learn, Jamie. Sean understands what'll happen if he tries anything like that. Don't you?"

Something struck Jackie's mind, and before him in the room he could see Chase teetering as if he were about to fall, a bullet hole in his head where his remaining eye should be. It wasn't real, but Jackie stepped back from the shock of terror shadowing the image. In the next instant, Chase was gone.

"Don't you?" Anti repeated.

The vision wasn't as strong as the ones from before, but it certainly reminded Jackie of Anti's point. "They'll die." His voice broke. "You know where they live."

"That's right. Let's leave Jamie alone, Sean. I think it's time for you to go." Anti opened the door and waved Jackie out. Wordlessly, he obeyed, taking one last look at Vengeance's trembling body as Anti closed the door behind them.

The hallway seemed pitch-black in comparison to the room. Anti ushered Jackie back down the hall, past all the rooms full of glowing monitors, into a large front room containing a beaten-up sofa and a mattress on the floor with blankets strewn across it. The curtains on the window were half-open, and the room was illuminated by an outdoor light spilling yellow light in through the panes.

"It's time for you to leave, Sean. Go back to your doctor and let him rip your little heart out. Tell him I'll see him tomorrow." Anti opened the door halfway, letting a slice of yellow light and cold air hit Jackie. "I have something for you."

"What is it?" A knife to the gut?

Anti dug in his pocket and held something out to Jackie. Jackie took it. His mask, ripped in half like paper. Whatever the doctor had made it out of had ceased to function when ripped, and it was hard and unbending like papier-mache.

Jackie stuffed it into his pocket and silently went past Anti onto the front step. The door closed and clicked locked behind him.

Anti lived on the ground floor of one of the narrow townhomes on Lionel Street. Jackie could see the Lionel Street Bakery at the end of the block from where he stood. It wasn't a bad area of town, and it wasn't far from the team's base.

He couldn't go back to his apartment. Anti had made that abundantly clear. The doctor would be there, and, so soon after a failure, he would murder Jackie first and ask questions later. Jackie pulled his hood over his head to hide his ears from the cold. A silent walk. That would be great. Time for his memories to stew in his mind and remind him over and over again of those visions of death.

Vengeance was fucked. How many other heroes had Anti kidnapped and forced his ideas into? No one except their close affiliates would ever know that they were still alive, so how many people had Jackie thought dead who'd just been trapped in that room? Jackie had tried and failed to slash Anti's throat with a broken-off part of the bedframe during his first week there, and heroes with powers more like Vengeance's, who could short out electronics and make metal rust very quickly, wouldn't even have a chance to fight back.

Jackie stepped onto the narrow sidewalk and hunched his shoulders against the chill. If he walked quickly, he could be at the base in under ten minutes.

The city was silent. Jackie didn't know what time it was, and he was afraid to turn on his phone to see. The doctor had insisted he bring it with him so that he could call when Anti was down. But of course, Anti wasn't down, and Jackie hadn't called the doctor about a third plan. Enough time had elapsed that the doctor was probably dialing Jackie's number every fifteen minutes to unleash his fury on the voicemail box.

As Jackie walked, visions seeped throughout his mind, filling his ears with screams and his mind's eye with Marvin coughing around Anti's knife in his throat, with Silver's coat torn and stained red from countless bullet holes through her lifeless body, with Chase burnt and blackened from another lightning bolt that finished the job. With every step, a coin flipped to see if Jackie would collapse or keep walking.

Finally, Jackie was at the door of the little renovated administrative building in the Warehouse District that served as the team's headquarters. He raised a fist and banged on the door. Someone must be home. Chase lived there, and unless he were out for some reason, he'd be sleeping in a back room. After a minute or so, the door opened on Chase in a robe, rubbing sleep out of his eye.

"What do y- Oh, fuck. Jackie." Chase stepped out of the way, beckoning Jackie in quickly. "What's wrong?"

"Who else is here?"

"Silver's probably still asleep in her room. Do we need to leave?"

Jackie shook his head. Suddenly, his eyes stung with oncoming tears, and his breath caught in his throat. Anti knew where the base was. He could come at any moment and slaughter the team if he wanted. Before he knew it, Jackie's knees were collapsing and he was on the floor in the foyer.

Chase sounded alarmed. "Are you okay? Jackie?"

Jackie looked up at Chase. In the low light, it almost seemed like his face was splattered with dark blood and Jackie's visions were true. A sob escaped Jackie's throat, and soon he was shaking and crying like Vengeance had been in Anti's lair, curled on the floor in the dark.

Chase shouted down the hallway. "Silver! Wake up! Come here!"

Moments later, there was a clatter from the other side of the base and Silver shouted back, "Who is that? Is someone dying? Why the fuck did they come here? Is it Marvin?" Jackie could sort of see down the hallway as Silver's door flung open and she hurried out.

Chase flicked the lightswitches next to the door, illuminating the scene and the living room. "It's Jackie. I don't know what's wrong. Can you pick him up and bring him into the living room?"

"Is he dying?" Silver knelt to pick up Jackie, staggering slightly as she stood up again with him in her arms.

Jackie couldn't speak, couldn't tell her that he was okay. Nothing would come out except sobs and gasps. He put a hand over hers, trying not to squeeze in case he broke her fingers.

In the living room, Silver carefully put Jackie down on the sofa, sitting next to him and feeling around his body to make sure he was intact.

"Is he okay?" Chase came over to sit on the other side of Jackie. "What happened? You look terrified, Jackie."

Jackie looked at him, trying to speak with his eyes. But the lightning scar on the side of Chase's head seemed to crackle and spread into his brain, cooking it like it hadn't had the chance to before. Jackie sobbed again.

"He's scared out of his mind. He wouldn't have come all the way here to have a panic attack at two in the morning if there wasn't something wrong." Chase looked across Jackie to Silver.

Silver's hand stroked Jackie's hair, which was, without a doubt, still green. But she hadn't commented on it. "Something's going on. Jackie, do you want me to turn on the police? It might help you monitor the problem."

Jackie nodded, struggling to sit up. Chase's hand on his shoulder helped pull him up, and he leaned against Chase, his body still trembling.

Silver stood and went to turn on the modified radio. It crackled to life and then fell silent, waiting for anything to come through to the units stationed across the city. She returned to her seat on the sofa. "Breathe with Chase, Jackie."

"Fuck, Silver, you think I'm calm?" Chase took one of Jackie's hands and pressed it flat against his chest to feel Chase's regular breathing.

Jackie would've laughed if he could have. Instead, he struggled to calm himself down enough to breathe in time with Chase, the occasional sob making his body tremble harder for a few seconds at a time.

Finally, when he was calm enough that he could hold both of their hands without breaking their fingers, Jackie sat back against the couch and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"What's wrong, Jackie?" Chase asked. "Do we need to hide you?"

Jackie opened his mouth, about to speak, when the radio crackled.

"Units around Macleon Avenue. Stop anyone you see. If you can see 14 Macleon Avenue, anyone coming out of the residence should be detained immediately. Cleary, please visit the residence and confirm. Violent crime reported inside unit A by the alleged perp."

"Copy."

"Oh, fuck." Silver was the first to break the following silence. "That's Marv's address."

Jackie pulled his knees up to his chest. "No, no, no. Marvin. No."

"Jackie, is this what you were afraid of?" Chase put a hand on Jackie's shoulder, but Jackie shook it off.

"He's-"

The radio crackled again. "Eyes on the residence. Lights are off. I'm going to knock."

"Keep your hand on your weapon."

"Copy."

"Jackie?" Chase's voice was suddenly quiet.

"It's two units, right?" Jackie put his hands on his knees and squeezed. "Marv's gotta live on the bottom." Marvin lived on the top. Unit A.

"No response," said the officer on the radio.

"Draw your weapon and break down the door."

"Copy."

No one at the base spoke.

After what seemed like forever, the radio crackled again. "Fuck. You should probably send forensics. This guy's dead. Caucasian man, long green hair. His chest's fucking mutilated."

"I'll send forensics. Did you check his pulse?"

"His heart's on the ground. This guy doesn't have a pulse."

"Did you check it?"

"Yeah, I checked his pulse."

"Copy. Is the house empty otherwise?"

"Empty. There's a mask broken on the ground next to him. It's a cat." The officer laughed harshly. "Fuck, it's the Magnificent. I thought something about him seemed familiar."

Another officer's voice crackled on. "Fuck, Cleary, you got a good one."

Dispatch again. "Are you sure?"

"Forensics might tell you differently, but this is definitely the Magnificent."

The radio turned off. Silver lifted her hand away from the button.

Finally, Chase spoke, and his words seemed like the end of everything. "Marvin's dead. Marv's... _dead_."


	6. If I Could Burn This Town

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'Choke' by I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME.

It felt like Jackie had been stabbed in the chest. Marvin couldn't be dead. But he could be. He was. And Jackie knew who had done it. Although he'd thankfully never seen him do it, Jackie knew the doctor liked to cut open the chests of his freshly dead victims and rip out their still-warm hearts with his own hands.

That was a theme that had appeared over and over in the visions Anti had given him. The doctor's bloody hand in the chests of his-

"Jackie?" Chase's voice was empty, deceptively emotionless, almost sounding how it had when the team had met him some four years ago.

Jackie pulled away from him, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Jackie, what's going on?" Resigned. Accusing. "You know something."

Jackie opened his mouth, tasted salty tears. Closed it again.

"Your hair's green again. Did you do something without telling us?" Chase's volume began to rise. "What do you know? Who killed Marv?"

Silver shook her head violently. "Shut the fuck up, Chase."

"This is my fault," Jackie whispered. All of those visions had been telling him what would happen. If he'd just gone back to the doctor and accepted his fate, Marvin wouldn't be-

Chase evidently hadn't heard Jackie's whisper. "This is the first time I've seen you in a year, and it's the same night Marvin _dies_?"

"This is my fault." Louder. "This is my fault." Jackie put his hands down to squeeze his thighs tightly, biting his lip to try not to cry even more.

"What?" Silver wouldn't forgive him, even if her voice wasn't as sharp as Chase's yet.

Carefully, Jackie reached into his pocket and pulled out the two halves of his destroyed mask. He leaned down to put them on the coffee table.

Chase and Silver stared at the mask. For a long while, neither spoke.

"What does this mean?" Silver asked finally, her voice level like Chase's had been.

Jackie opened his mouth, tried to bite back his tears, and spoke as clearly as he could. "You heard about the mask wearing my colors. I should have believed Anti. I should have fucking believed him when he said the doctor would kill you all if I disobeyed him. I should have gone back." Jackie clenched his teeth and squeezed his thighs harder. His fault, his fault.

"Jackie, _what_? You're a criminal? You got Marvin killed?" Silver shook her head. " _You_  tried to rob the Hartsman Gallery yesterday?"

Chase's voice was quiet. "I thought you loved him."

Jackie felt like the doctor had strolled in and ripped out his beating heart. He loved Marvin more than anything in the world. But he hadn't been able to protect him. He hadn't been able to save him. "I love him. I love him. I wanted to protect all of you. Antiseptic- I remember what he did to me." Jackie couldn't stop squeezing his legs, and if he wasn't careful, he could end up fracturing his femurs. "He told me my boss would kill you all." Jackie shook his head. That wasn't all of it. They would try to fight Anti. "He puts visions in your head. My boss... he saw Marvin without his mask."

Chase stood up from the couch, pulling a gun out of his robe's pocket. Of course he had one. Of course he knew Jackie couldn't be shot, but it was the gesture that counted. The gesture of pointing a gun at Jackie's head. "This _is_ your fault. Get out." The safety clicked off. "Go back to your criminal friends. I don't want to see you anymore."

Silver opened her mouth and closed it again. She crossed her arms. Quietly, "You should have warned us."

Chase flicked the gun in the direction of the door. Jackie stood up.

"I- I didn't want him to know where the base was." An excuse. Silver was right. Jackie should have warned them. He hadn't thought to do that because he'd thought he could protect them.

There was nothing but anger on Chase's face. Jackie had forgotten how quickly he'd get so bent on revenge. But even though Chase's shoulders visibly shook with grief? rage? his gun didn't waver, trained steadily on Jackie's forehead. "Get the fuck out."

Jackie hunched his shoulders, put his hands in his pockets, and turned to go.

"Fix this, Jackie." Silver said from behind him. "Undo whatever went wrong. Don't come back until you're free of whatever shit you're stuck in."

Jackie didn't say anything as Chase's gun escorted him from the base, barely holding himself together until the door locked behind him.

Maybe it was colder outside. Maybe it was just the chill seeping in through Jackie's wet cheeks. He pulled his hood over his head and stepped into the street. Behind the base's closed door, voices began to raise in an argument. Jackie didn't want to listen.

He'd go back to the doctor.

Whatever the doctor decided would be fine. If he killed Jackie, ripped his heart out, it couldn't be worse than what he'd already done.

Was it already three in the morning? The empty streets made it seem like it. The only kinds of people outside at this hour were masks and drunk people who'd been kicked out of closing establishments. Jackie didn't see anyone.

It was a long walk from the base to his apartment. He'd chosen the place because of that. But an hour's walk on flagging energy in the middle of the night couldn't be kind to anyone. By the time he finally arrived at the base of his building, Jackie was ready to fall down and sleep on the ground.

Thankfully, Anti had only taken his van keys - he'd figure that out later, if he could - and left the apartment key on the ring stuffed in Jackie's jeans pocket.

As it turned out, getting into the building was the only time Jackie would need his key. His apartment door was ajar, and the light was on.

Jackie was suddenly much more awake. His palms were sweating. Even if he was resigned to his fate, he was scared out of his mind.

He opened the door with a careful press of his hand.

"Close the door behind you." The doctor. A second later, the door swung open enough that Jackie could see the doctor seated casually on his sofa, one leg crossed over the other and a massive amount of blood splattered across his chest, arms, and face.

Jackie gripped the doorframe at the sight, bile rising suddenly in his throat.

"Close the door," the doctor repeated. How did he sound so fucking calm? Covered in the blood of- Jackie's eyes wandered over him again, and he swallowed hard to avoid vomiting.

He turned away to close the door. Anything to avoid looking at the doctor.

"Come sit next to me."

Jackie made his way to the doctor, trying his best not to look at the blood. But the scent hung in the air and seeped into Jackie's nose and mouth. Drying blood. Lots of it. He sat on the edge of the sofa next to the doctor, who reached over and patted his knee once, almost reassuringly, with a hand thankfully free of drying blood.

"I hope you have a good reason for your failure."

Jackie shook his head. Not a no. Only a meaningless gesture. "Anti made me remember what he did."

"Is that a reason?"

Jackie hesitated. "I... I passed out, sir."

The doctor chuckled. "I see. We'll try again, and this time you can kill him, my poor puppet."

Jackie blinked, his mind suddenly devoid of something. That word had wiped something from his memory, obviously, but what? He still remembered everything that had happened in the past day.

"If you kill him yourself, you will not have to wait for me. Stop him from speaking, and you will not have any trouble. Remember that he caused this. What he did to you caused me to think you were disloyal. It is his fault your friend is dead."

That was what Jackie couldn't remember. "What did he do to me? Why did you make me forget?"

"He affected your mind in a way that caused you great pain and made you pass out."

Jackie shook his head. That didn't make any sense. "I thought that device took away his powers." If Antiseptic had some kind of mental powers as well as his teleportation, the government would know about him and have an eye on him. That would be ridiculously powerful. Right?

"I am not certain what his second power is, so I cannot block it." The doctor shifted slightly, and the scent of blood struck Jackie again in a sudden wave. His stomach lurched. "But as I said, if you prevent him from speaking, you should not have any trouble. The component of his power that I believe affected you needs his voice to work."

If Jackie knew anything about Antiseptic, which he didn't, really, it was that it would be more difficult to shut him up than the doctor seemed to imagine. From the encounters they'd had, Jackie knew that he was pretty strong compared to the average person, and agile, and it might be difficult to pin him down.

That wasn't even mentioning the fact that the doctor had told Jackie to _kill_ Antiseptic.

Jackie had never killed anyone before.

As a mask, as a hero, he'd kept a strict moral code, and that involved never killing anyone, only leaving them unconscious or restrained for the police to find. Even after he began to work for the doctor, he'd been able to keep that code intact. The doctor liked to do his own dirty work, and that was just fine by Jackie.

To kill someone would be difficult. Jackie didn't relish the idea of life draining from someone's eyes by the actions of his own hands, not even if that someone was Antiseptic. But...

"It's his fault." Jackie spoke quietly, trying to convince himself of his decision more than inform the doctor. "Marvin is dead because of him. I'll kill him. I'll kill him." A rush of hot hatred suddenly coursed through Jackie's veins. That's right. A moral code could be dispensed with for revenge. It was Antiseptic's fault the _love of his life_  was _dead_ , after all. Jackie could kill him. "I'll send him to hell where he belongs."

"I am glad to hear that. Go to your room and have some sleep. I will wake you when the morning comes." The doctor flicked his fingers in the direction of Jackie's bedroom.

Jackie stood up, averting his eyes from the doctor's bloody visage. "Yes, sir."

 

In the morning, Jackie was exiled from his own apartment before he could eat anything more than a banana and a granola bar. At some point during Jackie's short sleep, the doctor had returned to wherever he lived for a shower and a change of clothes, and the turtleneck he was wearing when he shooed Jackie onto the street was thankfully completely free of blood.

The clouds that had littered the cold and windy sky while Jackie had been walking home the night before had multiplied and now crowded the heavens, spitting freezing rain down every five minutes or so. The temperature had definitely dropped from what it had been, and the gusts of wind pierced right through the hoodie which was Jackie's only protection from the cold.

The doctor had told him to wander the city and not come home until he'd eliminated Antiseptic. Unfortunately, the desire for revenge in the form of Antiseptic's death he'd managed to stir in his mind the night before was weaker now, and his resolve for committing murder had lessened again. He didn't know if he'd be able to kill the mask when it came down to it, but that time was yet to come.

For now, he was headed back to the Wharf, the neighborhood where both Antiseptic and the team were based. There was no guarantee that he'd find Antiseptic there, but Jackie's short sleep hadn't given him enough energy for a daytime crime to attempt to lure the mask out.

Once there, he'd go to the Diner, which was, true to its name, a little old-fashioned diner on Kingston Street. Since he didn't know where to look, Jackie figured he might as well go for breakfast in the area. He was hungry and had ten dollars, and that combination always meant that the Diner was the best place to go.

Like every other time he'd been there, Jackie ended up in the booth next to the door with a heaping plate of breakfast food on the way. Unlike every other time he'd been there, Jackie was in the booth alone.

"I'm surprised to see you alone," said the waitress setting down a bundle of cutlery in front of Jackie. Her name was Cleo, and the booth the team always sat in was hers. "I haven't seen you in a while. Did something happen between you and your friends?"

Jackie sighed and fiddled with the end of the napkin. "I got a new job and had to move away." He looked up at her.

"And you didn't take your boyfriend with you?"

"He has a job here. It's only for a few years." Except it wouldn't be. Because Marv was- Jackie coughed. "Anyway."

"Your regular?" Good, Cleo was going to change the subject.

"Thanks."

Cleo left Jackie alone to fold his napkin into a crane. Anything to distract himself from remembering Marvin's fate and the blood splattered across the doctor's- Jackie crumpled the napkin in his fist. Damn it.

Finally, a heaping plate of breakfast food landed on the table in front of him. Jackie fished ten crumpled dollars out of his pocket and gave them to Cleo in case he had to run.

Midway through his meal, the bell on the door behind Jackie jingled, and two people slid into the booth across from Jackie. Chase and Silver.

"I thought you didn't want to talk to me," said Jackie into his eggs.

"Listen, Jackie." Chase sighed heavily. "We've been up all night. I'm... I have to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have threatened you last night. You didn't deserve that."

"You were right, though. I could have stopped it, but I ran away. I let this happen." Jackie put down his forkful of eggs and looked up at Chase. "I'm going to kill Antiseptic. I won't let anything happen to either of you."

"We'll-" Silver stopped talking as Cleo approached the table.

"Only two more of you today?"

Jackie saw Chase's jaw clench.

"Marvin's... sick," Silver said quietly.

"Tell him I hope he gets better soon." Cleo smiled at Silver. "Your regulars?"

"We already ate," said Chase, almost angrily.

"Call me if you change your mind."

As Cleo walked away, the bell on the door jingled again. Chase and Silver both looked up, but Jackie didn't turn. Someone slid into the booth next to him, and before he could even see who it was, Jackie's body stiffened in dread.

"Redstone? Silver Hand? It's so nice to finally meet you." Antiseptic put his arm around Jackie's shoulder. A bolt of panic shot through Jackie, and he shook Antiseptic's arm off.

Across the table, Silver and Chase exchanged wary looks. Of course. They wouldn't recognize Antiseptic without his _fucking_ mask.

Sure enough, "Who are you?" asked Chase.

"Who am I, Sean?"

"I'm going to kill you," Jackie growled.

Antiseptic cackled and took a slice of cooling bacon from Jackie's plate. "I'm Antiseptic." He turned to inspect Jackie, munching thoughtfully on the bacon.

Jackie glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"See, I thought the doctor would kill you last night. But he must like you, Sean. I wonder why that is." Antiseptic gestured with the stub of the bacon slice. "And that really fucks up my plans. When I saw you sitting in here, I thought, _That little cockroach survived? I must have to rip out his heart myself to get fucking rid of him._ " He sneered, absolute loathing evident on his face. "I thought you wouldn't be hard to get out of the way, but you're a fucking nuisance, Sean."

"If you hurt Jackie, I'll kill you for him," Chase said. "I don't know what's happening or whose fault this is, but I won't hesitate to put a bullet through your fucking skull."

"Thanks, Chase." Jackie smiled weakly.

"I'll eat the rest of your breakfast if you're not going to," said Antiseptic.

Technically, it was not now or never because Jackie could eat more of his food and Antiseptic would probably still be there. But he'd lost his appetite, and the rage was building in Jackie's heart again.

Jackie turned to face the mask, not meeting his eyes. He took a deep breath and punched Antiseptic in the side.

There was an audible _crack_  as his fist connected with a rib, and Antiseptic recoiled, his body flickering as if he were trying to teleport.

"Stupid fucking  _hero_!" He slid out of the booth, holding a hand to his side.

Jackie stood up on the bench and vaulted over the back. Behind the counter, Cleo was looking nervously at them. They'd never told her they were masks, had they? She probably didn't even know any of them had powers.

Jackie began to move backwards, keeping his face towards Antiseptic, making his way to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Chase and Silver exiting the booth, Chase's coat already unzipped for easy access to his weapons.

Antiseptic, following Jackie to the door, grinned at him. "If your friends think they're going to fight me, the doctor isn't who they need to worry about. I'll take care of you, and then I'll take them out. Maybe I'll even take Redstone's other eye as a trophy." He reached into the dish cart parked next to the booth on the other side of the door and produced a steak knife, dripping with water. Fuck. That wasn't good.

Jackie pushed open the door behind him, the jingling of the bell far away, unimportant. Cold air struck him in a burst, working together with the half cup of coffee he'd downed to wake him up. Cars on the street behind him whizzed by. Not a lot of them, but enough to make it hard to initiate a fight on the street.

Jackie crouched and leapt backward, soaring into the air to land in the middle of the street. The car he'd just jumped over honked at him.

Antiseptic shoved through the door. "Don't want to fuck up that nice diner, do you?" He shook the steak knife, flinging water from the serrated blade. "They do have good ribs."

A car sped by behind Jackie, wind created by its passage tousling Jackie's hair. He reached back to pull his hood up.

Behind Antiseptic, Silver and Chase crowded through the diner's door. Chase had one hand inside his coat, gripping the concealed handle of the small handgun he carried with him, just in case.

"I'm surprised Redstone's still willing to sacrifice himself for you. Weren't you afraid he'd turn on you? Didn't you believe none of your teammates would ever forgive you? Such little faith you have in their loyalty, Sean."

"Every time you open your mouth, I want to shoot you more," snarled Chase.

"You don't need to have the chance. What was your name again? Chase?" Antiseptic kept his eyes locked on Jackie, not even glancing back at Chase as he spoke. "What's so hard about _I'll deal with you later_?"

Suddenly, Chase wobbled on his feet, looking alarmed. A hand flew to his eye, and he fell to his knees. The hand on his weapon dropped to his side.

"What did you do?" demanded Jackie.

"You forgot again?" Antiseptic clicked his tongue. Behind him, Silver suffered the same fate as Chase, collapsing against the Diner with a quiet, anguished shriek. "Did the doctor think you'd be more useful to him if you didn't know what I could do?" He laughed. "Of course, you were fucking _terrified_  of me when you left last night, weren't you?"

That was one of the things Jackie knew he had forgotten. He remembered the fear he'd felt in Antiseptic's lair, he remembered- Oh, fuck. It was something to do with Vengeance. What did he do? What had Antiseptic done to Vengeance while Jackie stood by? He'd seen, but there was a blank in his memory like Antiseptic's power had just been whited out. "What did you do?"

Antiseptic ignored his question. "You were a good team, Sean. They must've been hurt by your betrayal."

"What did you do to my _friends_?"

"Don't worry about them. I'm just keeping them occupied so they don't get in the way."

Another car rushed by behind Jackie. They'd have to create enough of a commotion that no one wanted to use this block of Kingston Street.

Jackie shifted on his feet. Antiseptic's knife gleamed momentarily in the dull sunlight filtered through the clouds. A cold breeze sped down Kingston Street, blowing trash from the gutters into tiny whirlwinds of litter.

Finally, Jackie cracked his knuckles, took a deep breath, and dove towards the mask, intending to dash around him at the last second and take Chase's gun. Instead, Antiseptic's fist connected with his shoulder and spun him off his trajectory. Jackie barely avoided a knife in his side as he twisted away from the second jab.

Somehow, he managed to get an arm around Antiseptic's waist and flung him to the ground. Antiseptic's body flickered as if he were trying to teleport, and he slowly pushed himself off the ground, cursing.

Taking the opportunity, Jackie kicked him in the side. Antiseptic rolled with it and sprang to his feet.

They circled each other warily.

"You're going to have to do a little better than that if you want me dead, Sean."

Jackie spit on the ground and shook his head. "Same for you. I've beat masks better than you with more disadvantage."

"Have you, Sean? Have you _on your own_?" Antiseptic advanced towards Jackie, and Jackie retreated. His back collided with a parked car. "Or did your _friends_  help you take them down?" Antiseptic flung an arm out behind him to indicate Chase and Silver by the door of the diner.

"Fuck you." Jackie reached down and yanked the front fender from the car. Thank god, it was loose already. He swung it up at Antiseptic.

Instead of dodging, Antiseptic attempted to teleport again, the device on his neck making his body flicker but not actually move. The bumper hit him solidly in the side, sending him stumbling away from Jackie. His hand went to the device, grasping at it like he was about to try to pull it off.

Jackie stopped, watching Antiseptic warily. The doctor's device had driven something into Antiseptic's neck when he'd fixed it there, which was probably why the mask hadn't tried to remove it yet. So would he dare to rip it from his neck and risk whatever had been punctured?

Antiseptic took his hand down, stepped back once, twice, and spit on the ground. "The doctor's going to pay for this thing. I'll make sure he takes a _very_  long time to die when I find him."

Jackie lunged, sweeping the fender at Antiseptic's knees. Antiseptic jumped back and plunged the knife down towards Jackie's shoulder. Well. The lunge was a big fucking mistake. Jackie couldn't get out of the way, and the serrated blade went deep into his upper back. Antiseptic's knee caught him in the stomach. Jackie stumbled back from the mask, the car fender loose in his hands and the knife, ripped from Antiseptic's hand, sticking out of his back. He reached back to rip the weapon from his shoulder, dropping the fender and kicking it away.

The two circled each other again, Antiseptic eyeing Jackie's discarded weapon.

Jackie shifted the knife in his hand. It was slippery, coated in a mix of dish water and Jackie's blood. The point in his back where it had gone in ached dully. He'd have to be careful not to tear it farther open.

Behind Antiseptic, Chase staggered to his feet, his hands shakily holding his gun out in front of him.

Jackie stopped moving, mirrored by Antiseptic as he'd hoped. They stared at each other.

Antiseptic sneered. "Sean, do you want to know something?"

Before Antiseptic continued, Chase's finger squeezed the trigger, and with the report of the gun, Antiseptic was knocked towards Jackie. His hand flew to his side, dark blood seeping out between his fingers. Jackie took the opportunity to kick him down, sending him sprawling on the street. Antiseptic lay still for a long moment, breathing hard, his hand gripping his side where blood drained onto the asphalt. Jackie pounced on him, raising the knife to plunge it into Antiseptic's chest.

"You're going to kill me?" Antiseptic hissed up at him. "You've fallen a long way since you were a hero. With blood on your hands, you'll never be able to claim that you're good again."

"Do you think I care?" Jackie growled back. "You're the reason I'm like this. You're the reason Marvin's _dead_!"

" _I'm_ the reason? _I'm_ the one who ripped him apart? Wake up, Sean. Standing between me and the doctor does you no good."

Jackie stabbed him, plunging the blade into the center of Antiseptic's chest, between the curves of his ribs. He raised a hand to hammer the knife in.

Quickly, Antiseptic put a hand to his neck and pulled hard on the device affixed to him. With a rush of red blood, it ripped from his flesh.

Antiseptic's body flickered and vanished from underneath Jackie. Several feet away, he reappeared on his knees, already ripping off his open jacket to press it to the hole in his neck. The handle of the steak knife, dripping with blood, protruded from his chest. With the hand that wasn't holding the fabric desperately to his neck, he ripped the knife free. He vanished again, reappearing this time standing on unsteady feet, his knuckles white around the knife's handle.

Jackie got to his feet, but by the time he'd done so, Antiseptic had vanished again, the blood-stained jacket falling heavily to the ground. A hand gripped Jackie's shoulder and yanked him backwards, the clothes on his back providing only a little bit of resistance before the knife dug into Jackie's back. He shouted and shoved backwards. The knife tore from his back. Jackie spun around, but Antiseptic was already gone.

Arms wrapped around Jackie from behind, trapping his arms against his sides. Jackie struggled, trying to break free. But the hand with the knife pressed in and the blade pierced under Jackie's ribs and thrust up. Jackie's body quailed away from the jab.

The knife pulled out of him, and the arms around him vanished. A cough bubbled in Jackie's chest, and he doubled over, hacking up blood onto the street.

On the sidewalk, Antiseptic reappeared, the knife falling from his loose fingers and clattering to the street. He swayed heavily and collapsed.

Jackie was dizzy. He was losing blood from three wounds now and from the spray that escaped as each cough shook his body. He carefully sat down on the pavement. Slumped on the sidewalk, Antiseptic was still.

Finally, everything started to hurt. Jackie let himself fall back to the street, the cool pavement soothing his back, just a bit. It had been dulled by the excitement of the fight, but the pain from his wounds hurt like hell now.

On the sidewalk, Antiseptic groaned. Jackie stared up at the cloudy sky.

Was he going to die?

Were the police coming?

Was there any chance Antiseptic would survive?

A cold breeze meandered through the street, ruffling Jackie's hair.

Jackie blinked, and Antiseptic was standing over him.

"When the doctor comes, kill him. _He_  killed Marvin. _He_ paid me to turn you in the first place. If you surprise him, you can do it. Maybe you'll even be able to go back to your life afterwards."

Jackie coughed, his lungs rattling. When he recovered, he asked, weakly, "Will my friends heal from what you did to them?"

Antiseptic didn't answer, and as the vision faded away, memories of year-old tortures began to seep back into Jackie's mind. He laid his head back onto the pavement and wept.

There was the sound of movement, and hurried feet rushed over to Jackie's side. Hands gingerly touched his chest.

"Jackie?" Chase. Worried.

Jackie opened his eyes. "I'm sorry, Chase." His voice scratched at his throat.

Jackie heard hurried footsteps, and Silver entered his field of vision, kneeling next to him and gingerly putting her arms under his body to lift him to her chest. "Get out of the street, Chase."

"I'm sorry, Silver." Movement gently rocked Jackie's body. The hard lump of his phone in his pocket pressed into his leg. Oh, right. Jackie had to call the doctor. There was a chance he would survive if he did.

Jackie struggled in Silver's arms to worm his hand into his pocket.

"Jackie, _stop moving_."

Jackie pulled his phone out, and it immediately slipped out of his hand onto the street. "Fuck."

Chase bent down to pick it up. "You have a phone?"

Jackie spoke into Silver's chest. "There's only one number in the contacts." He paused to allow a cough to violently shake his body. "Call him. He can save me."

He heard the quiet click of Chase flipping the phone open.

"It's not your boss, is it?" asked Silver quietly.

"Yes."

Silver knelt, gently setting Jackie down on the sidewalk. He slowly relaxed onto the hard concrete. Above him, Chase had the phone to his ear.

"Your boss who killed Marvin?"

"I'll take care of him, Silver."

"Jackie wants you. I think he's dying." Chase covered his ear with his left hand so he could hear the phone. "The Diner. Kingston Street." He listened for a moment, then snapped the phone closed. "He says he's nearby. He's coming."

The Diner's door opened, the bell jingling on it.

"Should I call the police?" asked Cleo, her voice worried.

Silver spoke. "You didn't already?"

"You're masks, aren't you? I don't want to interfere in mask business. It's not safe."

Jackie weakly pointed at where Anti lay. "When I go, call for him."

"Go? Where can you go in a state like that?" Cleo sighed. "I only suspected you all were masks, and now..."

Jackie coughed, painfully twisting onto his side to hack up a clump of blood onto the sidewalk. He carefully resettled himself, wiping his lips with his hand. "You should probably close early."

"Hmm."

The Diner's door quietly clicked closed. With a deep exhale, Cleo sank down to sit against it.

After several long minutes, during which blackness began to seep into the edges of Jackie's vision, sharp footsteps sounded on the sidewalk. All three people around Jackie looked up. Jackie didn't move.

" _Mein Gott_ , Jackie, I am surprised you survived." The doctor knelt next to Jackie, already opening his briefcase to pull out salve patches and mending gauze.

"I'm losing blood. He stabbed my lung."

"Patience. The gauze will help with that." The doctor pulled apart the wax paper holding the mending gauze and bunched up the gauze. "You know that, Jackie." He pulled the cut cloth away from the wound on Jackie's chest and packed the gauze inside. Jackie winced and tried not to move too much. The doctor smoothed a salve patch on top of the wound. "Where else are you injured?"

"My back." The doctor was being _nice_. But there were people around, and Chase's gun was visibly back in his hand. The doctor wasn't stupid. He had to know that his presence was suspicious, even if Jackie's former teammates didn't know the hands that now repaired Jackie were the same ones that had ripped Marvin's heart from his chest.

"I will talk to you about this later," the doctor muttered into Jackie's ear as he helped him sit up. "You were careless enough to allow him to stab you multiple times. If I had not been so close, you would have died. That carelessness is unacceptable."

Jackie pressed a hand to his chest. The salve patch worked as a very effective bandage, but thin streams of blood still leaked out from underneath it as he sat up. The doctor pressed more gauze into his back, stretching the hole in his shoulder open painfully with his fingers. As the gauze activated, it would help the muscles heal quickly and correctly, but it still hurt like, well, like somebody was shoving rough tissue into a stab wound.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

Jackie waited until the doctor's fingers smoothed a salve patch over the other wound in his back, and then said quietly, "I remember what he did to me."

The doctor froze. Good. He knew Jackie's opinion of him would have changed, then. Slowly, he stood up and walked away from Jackie, standing over Anti's body and rolling it over with a foot.

Behind him, Jackie staggered to his feet, pain shooting through his body. The gauze was already beginning to work, though, starting to dissolve into synthetic blood to replace some of what Jackie had lost. His head still swam, but blackness no longer danced at the edges of his vision. Jackie swayed on his feet, staring down the doctor.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jackie saw Chase and Silver glance at each other.

"Jackie?" asked Chase.

"He's mine. Put your weapon away," Jackie growled.

The doctor slowly turned around, his hands in his pockets. "You carried out my order. I will release you, Jackie. I am truly sorry for the death of your friend."

Jackie clenched his fists. "You enjoyed it, didn't you? You're not sorry, doctor. And _why_ would I want to be free without him?" He took a step forward, and the movement shot a bolt of pain through his chest.

"I have a husband and a son. Do you want to leave them alone?"

"I'm alone, doctor!" Jackie shouted, a red-hot flood of anger rushing through his veins. "You kept me alone because I feared you'd kill my friends!" His fingernails dug hard into his palms. "And when you found him, you killed him! The person I would have spent my life with!" Hot tears streaked down Jackie's cheeks, and he clenched his jaw tight.

"Jackie, I understand your-"

"You're sorry for killing Marvin? Well, I'm sorry to your family, _murderer_. They'll never see you again. I hope they learn what you've done."

Jackie lunged at the doctor, pinning him against the wall of the diner. His fingers wrapped around the doctor's throat; his thumbs pressed together into his windpipe.

The doctor's hands flew to Jackie's, trying to pry them away.

"Please-" he gasped.

"Fuck you," Jackie growled. Under his pressing thumbs, something gave. That didn't feel good. But it did. Everything that the doctor had ordered Anti to do to him, the sight of Marvin's blood across- Jackie pulled the doctor away from the wall and shoved him back again, the back of his head cracking loudly into the brick. Jackie coldly stared into the doctor's pleading eyes. "I'll see you in hell after I live out the rest of my life, doctor." Fingers clawed weakly at his tightening grasp. Distantly, he heard the bell on the Diner's door ring as Cleo finally retreated inside.

After what seemed like forever, the clawing fingers fell away from Jackie's hands, and the doctor's frantic eyes went vacant.

Jackie let go.

The body crumpled to the floor before him, and with it went all of Jackie's rage.

He shoved his hands into his pocket and hunched his shoulders, staring down at the doctor.

Finally, Chase's hand touched Jackie's shoulder, squeezing gently. Out of the corner of his eye, Jackie could see Chase's gaze fixed on him, not the doctor.

Jackie looked up at him. "I killed him, Chase," he said quietly.

"I know, it's hard. But I think you should go. Cleo is calling the police, and you should be far from here by the time they arrive. Silver and I will meet you at the base once we've given statements to the police." Chase smiled at him. "Don't worry, we'll be here for you."

Tears suddenly spilled again from Jackie's eyes, and he took his hands from his pocket to tightly hug the mask. Chase's arms wrapped around him, too, holding Jackie to his body.

"You're not alone, Jackie."

Jackie muttered a tearful _thank you_ into Chase's shoulder, embracing him tightly like he'd fall to his death without him.

Eventually, Chase released him and gently pushed Jackie away from him. Jackie wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of a hand.

"Take this and go." Chase pressed his gun into Jackie's limp left hand. "I don't want evidence on me. Especially _unregistered_ evidence."

Jackie smiled weakly at him, slipping the gun into his pocket. "Yeah."

"Chase, you left me with no time," said Silver from behind Jackie. She turned Jackie around and swept him into a brief hug of her own. "Do we need to worry about fingerprints?" she asked when she released him.

"I burnt them off a long time ago." Jackie went to the doctor's briefcase, bent down, closed it, and picked it up. "Thank you."

As he climbed up the dumpster at the side of the building, the handle of the briefcase clutched in one hand, Jackie heard sirens begin to pierce through the winter air. From the roof, he looked down at his teammates, who were beginning to assume their frightened-witness postures.

No, Jackie wasn't alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked this fic, and you might want to keep an eye out for something else in this universe. We'll see.
> 
> I have a [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/sylveon142/playlist/2DTjxRUaEruzMUM6qlDQc1?si=MgSKE-y0RP-WMs393YjyDw) for this fic, if you're interested. The first song on the playlist, which is the inspiration for this fic's title, doesn't work on Spotify, but the rest do. (And that one's [on YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZPRVKNc97ws) if you want to check it out!)
> 
> Come visit me on Tumblr at [sylveondreams](http://sylveondreams.tumblr.com/)!


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